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Updated: May 2, 2025
"If I mistake not," answered Roland, "the candle shines from the house of Blinkhoolie, the mail-gardener." "Thou hast a good eye," said the Queen; "it is there where my trusty lieges God and the saints pour blessings on them! hold consultation for my deliverance.
"I hold these gleams," she said, after a moment's consideration, "to come, not from the churchyard, but from the hut of the old gardener Blinkhoolie. I wonder what thrift that churl drives, that of late he hath ever had light in his house till the night grew deep. I thought him an industrious, peaceful man If he turns resetter of idle companions and night-walkers, the place must be rid of him."
I am he who was the Abbot Boniface at Kennaquhair, who was the gardener Blinkhoolie at Lochleven, hunted round to the place in which I served my noviciate, and now ye are come to rouse me up again! A weary life I have had for one to whom peace was ever the dearest blessing!"
Mary's and yet, I wot not for, if Abbot Boniface be but the poor peasant Blinkhoolie, his successor, the Abbot Ambrosius, is still transmuted for the worse into the guise of a sword-and-buckler-man." "Is this indeed the Abbot Boniface of whom I have heard?" said the Queen. "It is indeed I who should have bent the knee for your blessing, good Father." "Bend no knee to me, Lady!
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